One Day of Rain
by WinterSky101
Summary: "Who knew floating on a piece of driftwood for three weeks with no food or water and sea vultures waiting to pluck out your liver could make one so tense?" Zuko and Iroh, at sea.


**Title comes from this Malawian proverb: "One day of rain far surpasses a whole year of drought."**

* * *

Iroh was right, Zuko needs his rest, but he can't get it. He lies on his back, then he lets go of the last shreds of his dignity - as if he ever had dignity with his uncle in the first place - and curls onto his side, pulling himself into a tight fetal position like a child. He still can't sleep. Images are bouncing around in his mind - being stuck under the ice, watching the Avatar destroy the invading ships, reaching out for Zhao - and they won't let him find peace. Closing his eyes only makes it worse, so he keeps them open and stares out at the water behind them.

It takes a few moments for Zuko to realize that it's the sight of the bobbing icebergs, the sight of the floating wreckage, that's making his heart beat too fast. He's on the brink of panic, only barely staved off, and he should be _stronger_ than this, he's the son of the Fire Lord, he's the prince of the Fire Nation, and yet-

And yet-

His heart still pounds.

Zuko sits up, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. "Prince Zuko?" Iroh asks gently. "You should rest."

"I don't want to rest," Zuko replies quietly.

"Prince Zuko-"

Something hits the side of their makeshift raft. Zuko whirls around, fire at the ready in his hands, only to find-

Oh, _Agni_.

There's a a body floating next to them, draped in Fire Nation red, ice frosting the edges of his beard and hair. His eyes are open, the same golden color as Zuko's, and his skin is deathly white where it isn't tinged with icy blue.

He's not, Zuko realizes in horror, the only body that's floating in the freezing waters.

Zuko manages to keep his composure at the first body, and at the second and the third, but then the fourth is someone he _knew_ , one of his men that Zhao press-ganged into service, and Zuko can only look at him for a moment before he's on his knees at the edge of the raft, gagging and vomiting over the side. He should be better than this, his father would berate this sort of shameful weakness, and even if it weren't despicable because of that, Zuko is expelling precious water and food that he can't afford to lose. But every time he thinks he's done, another wave of nausea rises in his throat, and the cycle begins again. Iroh, kneeling behind him, keeps his hair from falling into his face and rubs his back. It reminds Zuko of his mother, sitting with him when he was ill as a child. He's sixteen now, he should be past this, but he can't deny that the comfort helps.

"It's my fault," he whispers when the retching lets up.

"It is not your fault," Iroh replies firmly, his hand still steady and warm on Zuko's back. "Admiral Zhao was the one who led this attack."

"They were my men. I was supposed to be responsible for them."

"Zhao gave you no choice."

Zuko coughs out a harsh laugh. It scrapes the inside of his dry throat and sounds more like a sob than anything else. "Zhao's death is my fault too."

Iroh's hand freezes on Zuko's back for a moment, then regains its rhythm. "What happened?"

"The spirit took him. I held out my hand, but he didn't take it."

"That sounds like Zhao's fault, not yours."

"No, Uncle, you don't _understand_." Zuko pulls away from Iroh's gentle touch, standing and walking as far away as he can go on the tiny raft. "It's my fault he didn't want to take my hand."

"How is that your fault?"

"Because I'm a criminal, and an enemy of the Fire Nation," Zuko spits bitterly. He doesn't dare turn around and see the look on Iroh's face. "I'm the Blue Spirit."

Iroh doesn't say anything. Zuko doesn't want to turn back, doesn't want to see the condemnation on his uncle's face, but he finds the silence is even worse. The sense of not knowing how Iroh is reacting is eating at Zuko, and slowly, slowly, he turns.

There is no condemnation on his uncle's face.

"Prince Zuko," he says gently, "did you think that I didn't know?"

Zuko breathes in a shaky inhale. "But- You told Zhao-"

"I was not going to tell Zhao that my nephew was the Blue Spirit he was searching for," Iroh replies dismissively. "But Prince Zuko, I know you can use those broadswords. The second I heard what the Blue Spirit's weapons were, I knew it was you."

"Then why didn't you _say_ anything?" Zuko demands. "You knew that I had betrayed the Fire Nation-"

"Did you think that I would give up my own nephew?" Iroh demands, a hint of fire in his voice. "I would never do such a thing."

"But I betrayed the Fire Nation-"

"And that does not mean I would betray you." Iroh steps forward and lays his hand on Zuko's shoulder. "You are my nephew. You are my family. I am loyal to you before the Fire Nation."

If Ozai were here, he would call that treasonous. But Zuko doesn't have the right to call out anyone else for treason, so he keeps his mouth shut.

No one's ever told him that they would rank him over the Fire Nation. Iroh shouldn't have said it, Zuko knows that, but it was nice to hear.

* * *

The moon is glowing above them. Zuko isn't sure how it returned after Zhao killed the moon spirit, but he doesn't want to think too deeply about it.

Iroh is sleeping behind him, snoring softly, but Zuko still can't sleep. It's been hours, and aside from his brief period of unconsciousness after the Water Tribe girl knocked him out, Zuko can't quite remember when he last slept. He knows he needs the rest, but he can't relax. When he closes his eyes, he sees the destruction and Zhao pulling back his hand, and when he opens them, he sees drifting icebergs and the occasional floating wreckage. Neither sight is particularly restful. It seems that, for the moment, sleep is out of the question.

Zuko sighs. He can't do anything about the visions behind his eyelids, not now, but he might be able to do something about the panic bubbling through his veins from the icy water. Slowly, carefully, he leans over the side of the raft and lowers his hand beneath the waves.

His heart rate spikes. Zuko's not even sure _why_ he's so scared of the cold water - he was only trapped under the ice for a moment - but the panic rushing through him is impossible to deny. He can push it aside, though, and he manages to do so until he finally has to yank his hand from the water. He cradles it against his chest, breathing hard, and uses his firebending to warm himself again.

He doesn't wait for his heart rate to return to normal before he plunges his hand in the water again.

He loses track of time, unsure of how many times he repeats the same cycle, but finally Zuko can put his hand in the icy water and only feel whispers of panic. He pulls it out only when his fingers are so numb he can barely feel them, and as he uses his firebending to warm his hand, he considers what to do next.

He can put his hand in the water now, yes, but he still feels panic when he looks at it. He needs to submerge more than just his hand if he's going to truly beat this fear. And he _needs_ to beat this fear.

Zuko takes a deep breath, holds it, and jumps into the icy waves.

Immediately, panic grips him so tightly he can't move. His heart is pounding, his lungs are suddenly desperate for air, his limbs refuse to act. He tries to call on his firebending to help him, but the cold of panic has overpowered the heat that his fire comes from, and he can't do anything to stop it.

He's going to die down here, sinking under the waves, just like the soldiers they saw floating by.

And then a hand grabs his collar and yanks him out of the water, and Zuko gasps for air that his lungs can't quite figure out how to get. "What were you doing?" Iroh demands. He sounds almost angry. "Why would you do something so foolish?"

Zuko can't fill his lungs with enough air to form words, but even if he could, he doesn't know what he would say. His uncle's hands glow slightly as they rub up and down his arms, trying to bring warmth back to them. Once, the feeling of too-warm hands on his skin would spark panic, and later, the sound of crackling flames. But Zuko's gotten past both of those fears, and he has to get past this one too, has to be stronger than this, has to be _better_. No son of the Fire Lord, no prince of the Fire Nation, can be afraid of a little ice.

Iroh, he realizes, is still talking to him, demanding why he would go into the water like that. "I'm sorry," Zuko manages to force out.

For a moment, Iroh's hands and words stop. Then he pulls Zuko's limp body up, wrapping his arms around him and pressing Zuko to his chest. It's not a particularly effective way to transfer heat, is Zuko's first thought; it's helping Zuko to warm up, yes, but in doing so it's leeching away Iroh's warmth and drenching his dry clothes.

And then, after a too-long moment, it occurs to Zuko that perhaps this isn't for warmth after all, but instead an embrace.

"Please, Prince Zuko," Iroh whispers. "I have lost one son. Do not make me lose another."

"I won't," Zuko rasps. "I'm sorry."

Iroh's arms remain around Zuko for a long time, even when Zuko is warm again. Zuko knows he's too old to crave this sort of childish comfort, but he doesn't want to let go of Iroh, and Iroh doesn't seem too inclined to let go of him. There's no one here to see, so Zuko stays in Iroh's embrace until finally, finally, he drifts off to sleep.

* * *

After three days on the raft, they finally get far enough from the North Pole that there are no more icebergs in the waters around them. Zuko's panic abates, not entirely, but enough. To his chagrin, he hasn't been able to do anything about his fear of icy water. Iroh has been watching him like a hawk, and whenever Zuko even gets too near to the edge of the raft, his uncle comes up with some task for him to do. Zuko knows he's being coddled, but for the first time since he was a child, he allows it. Even though he knows he shouldn't, he doesn't really want to be too close to the water anyway, so it's not too hard to sit back and let Iroh protect him.

Although the water around them might be iceberg-free now, it's still not any more drinkable than it was at the North Pole. They have a small tin that Iroh scrounged up from somewhere, and it's full of the melted snow they gathered on their second day of sailing. Food is a bit easier to find; Zuko's aim has gotten much better when it comes to shooting down seabirds above the raft with his fireballs. But their lack of water is the real problem, and it's not one that'll be easy to fix while they're at sea.

Iroh, Zuko notices, has offered him water more than he's drank it himself. Without knowing how long it'll be until they have access to fresh water again, there's no way to properly ration what they have. All they can do is drink as little as possible and hope they find more before they run out. Zuko's been doing his best to make sure that they drink equal amounts, but Iroh isn't.

"Why do you keep offering me water?" he demands, his voice rough and cracking. "You need to drink it too."

"I'm not thirsty," Iroh replies, which Zuko knows is a blatant lie. He doesn't think either of them have not been thirsty since they first left the North Pole.

"You're lying," Zuko accuses. "You need to drink, Uncle."

"Prince Zuko-"

"I'm not drinking until you do," Zuko says. His mouth is dry as bone, and his lips are cracked, and his throat feels like sandpaper, but he's not going to give in.

Iroh must see the determination in Zuko's eyes, for he sighs and lifts the tin to his lips. He only drinks a bit, but his lips are wet when he lowers the tin and passes it to Zuko. "Now, will you drink?"

Zuko lifts the tin to his lips and tries to drink as little as possible. His head is pounding, which he knows is from dehydration, but his stomach is twisting with nausea as well, and he doesn't want to risk vomiting any of their precious water. He only takes a small sip before he puts the lid back on the tin and places it on the raft.

"How long do you think it'll be before we reach land?" he asks, not entirely sure that he wants to hear the answer.

Iroh frowns. "The problem is, we need to land someplace friendly with the Fire Nation. Right now, we're going south, so we're going closer to the Earth Kingdom. And trust me, Prince Zuko, the Earth Kingdom is not someplace we want to be caught unprepared."

"But we can't go home," Zuko counters. "I haven't captured the Avatar."

Iroh's frown deepens. "Then we must go to one of the Fire Nation colonies in the Earth Kingdom," he decides. "There are many along the western shore. It will be a longer trip, but we'll be much safer once we arrive."

A long trip, Zuko knows, means they'll have to ration their water carefully. But if they land in the Earth Kingdom, they'll be captured, if not outright killed. A longer trip at sea is preferable to that, especially now that they've moved past the wreckage and the icebergs. Zuko can breathe when he looks out at the water now. Once it's a bit warmer, he might even be able to swim.

"We'll be alright," Iroh adds, apparently taking Zuko's silence for worry. "I promise you, my nephew, I will deliver you to the Fire Nation colonies."

"I don't need to be delivered anywhere," Zuko retorts automatically.

Iroh doesn't look annoyed at Zuko's snapping; he never does. Instead, he looks almost amused. "But I will do it anyway," he replies. "You will get to the colonies safe and sound."

"We'll both get to the colonies safe and sound," Zuko corrects.

Iroh nods. "Of course we will."

Something about the way he says it, the way he's been treating Zuko this whole time…

"I don't need you to baby me, Uncle," Zuko says. "I can take care of myself." He hopes Iroh hears what he's not saying. _I can take care of myself, Uncle, and you need to take care of yourself. I don't need you to baby me, but I do need_ you _. We need to land on those colonies together._

Iroh smiles softly in a way that makes Zuko think he understands. "Of course you can, Prince Zuko," he replies. "But I hope you will allow me to help you anyway."

Zuko ducks his head so his uncle can't see his smile.

* * *

The sea vultures start circling while Iroh is sleeping. At first, Zuko wonders if it might be a hallucination. It wouldn't be his first. But they last longer than any of his other hallucinations have, and when he sends of blast of fire into the sky, the birds squawk and swerve to avoid it. None of the visions he's seen have ever reacted to his flames like that. Either his hallucinations have gotten much more sophisticated, or the sea vultures are really here.

Then one of the birds goes into a dive, heading straight for Iroh.

"No!" Zuko yells, although the sound barely makes it out of his dry throat. He aims a fireball at the bird and just barely misses. It's close enough to singe a few of the sea vulture's feathers, and it's close enough that the bird seems to think twice about diving again.

Zuko stands next to Iroh, his fists at the ready. "He's not dead," he snaps, as if the sea vultures can understand him. "You're not getting him."

Another sea vulture swoops down. Zuko growls at it and kicks out a tongue of flame. "He's not going to die, and you're not going to get him!"

The second part is true - Zuko will die before he lets these birds desecrate his uncle's body - but he's starting to feel a bit unsure about the first. They're out of water, they have been for the past day, and despite Zuko's best efforts, he's pretty sure Iroh didn't drink enough when they still had it. There are storm clouds on the horizon, getting closer and closer, but Zuko's not sure they'll reach them in time. But if the clouds do come fast enough, if he and Iroh manage to hold out just a bit longer, the rain might be their salvation, if the storm isn't the death of them first.

At this point, Zuko thinks he'd prefer a quick death in a storm over slowly dying of dehydration.

"Uncle," he rasps, kneeling next to Iroh. The sea vultures are keeping their distance, although they aren't going far. The clouds, on the other hand, are getting closer every minute, and Zuko thinks they might get there in time. "Uncle, wake up."

But Iroh doesn't move. Zuko frantically tries to find a pulse, and after a too-long moment, he discovers it. It's not quite right, but Zuko's brain is getting a little fuzzy, and he can't quite figure out what's wrong. Iroh's breathing is shallow, too shallow - even Zuko's fuzzy brain knows that - and Zuko's heart pounds. "Come on, Uncle, wake _up_!" he demands. He refuses to call it a beg. "Uncle! Come on, you need to wake up!"

The air's gotten a bit cooler, imbued with the feeling it gets right before a storm. The rain clouds are closer, so close, and if Iroh can just hang on for a few more minutes…

Zuko's not a healer, he doesn't know how long it takes to die of dehydration, but if he can't make Iroh wake up, he can't make him drink. And if he can't make him drink…

"Uncle, please," Zuko whispers. This is begging now, he'll admit it, he'll do _anything_ if it makes his uncle open his eyes. Anyway, there's no one here to witness his shame, no one but some circling sea vultures and Iroh, unconscious and limp despite all of Zuko's clumsy ministrations. "Uncle, please, I need you. You said we'd get to the colonies together, you _promised_. You need to wake up."

The clouds burst over them, and Zuko quickly picks up their tin of water and flips it open. The rain is heavy, and the tin fills quickly. Zuko only waits for an inch of water to pool in it before he picks up the tin, lifts Iroh's head, and does his best to pour the water into his uncle's mouth.

"Please," he whispers. "Please, Uncle, _please_ -"

Iroh coughs as his eyes flutter open.

Zuko's glad of the rain; it's impossible to tell what water on his face is from raindrops and what's from tears. "Uncle," he whispers, his voice thick with relief. "It's raining."

"I see," Iroh replies, his voice hoarse and thin but _there_. "So it is, Prince Zuko."

The sea vultures don't go too far - Zuko can still see them off in the distance - but they aren't circling any more. Both he and Iroh are drenched in seconds, but it's fresh water, rainwater, not the saltwater that's been surrounding them for so long. They fill the tin and gulp down the water, then do it again and again and again and again. Zuko only stops when he starts to feel sick, and even then, a part of him wants to keep gorging himself on water as long as they have the chance. He keeps pressing the full tin into Iroh's hands, though. He's not above pouring water down his uncle's throat again if he has to. Thankfully, it doesn't come to that; Iroh drinks.

When they're finally both sated, Iroh leaves the tin to fill up again and offers Zuko a smile. He's drenched to the bone, and so is Zuko, and maybe they should be worried about getting sick, but Zuko can only worry about one thing at a time right now, and the still-present fear that they'll run out of water again is more pressing than the vague thought of illness.

Zuko doesn't smile back, but a part of him wants to.

"One day of rain," Iroh says after a moment, "far surpasses a whole year of drought."

Zuko scowls, like he always does when his uncle says something needlessly cryptic and vague, but for once, he doesn't mind it too much.

* * *

The land they see in the distance, just visible over the horizon, isn't exactly where they're going. "That's the northern part of the Earth Kingdom," Iroh says when Zuko excitedly points it out. "We need to go around, to the west. The Fire Nation colonies are all on the west coast."

"But we're close to land," Zuko says. "We might not be close to the colonies, but won't it be easier to find fresh water and food when we're this close to land?"

Iroh frowns. "We'll have to be careful. The Earth Kingdom people won't take kindly to us being here."

Zuko scowls. "If I had my ship, and my men-"

"But you don't, Prince Zuko," Iroh says gently, and Zuko remembers seeing a few of his former crewmen floating in the icy waves by the North Pole. He swallows hard and nods. "It's just the two of us," Iroh adds, "and we have to be careful."

"But it'll be easier now that we're close to land," Zuko says again. "We'll have to be careful, but we can go on shore to get fresh water and food."

Iroh's frown deepens. "We'll have to be very careful," he warns. "But I don't know that we have another choice."

Zuko peers out at the horizon, squinting. But his depth perception has never fully recovered from the Agni Kai with his father, so he's not quite sure how far out they are. "How long before we reach the shore, do you think?"

Iroh stares out over the water. "A day, I think," he replies. "But I'm not entirely certain."

"I hope we can find better food there," Zuko grumbles. He's sick of roasted bird and the occasional fish, when they can catch one.

Iroh sighs wistfully. "I hope we can find good tea."

Zuko couldn't care less about tea, but he knows Iroh does. He can remember having tea with his uncle when he was little, after his mother left but before he was banished. And then, of course, whenever Zuko couldn't sleep on the ship, or whenever he was feeling particularly hopeless about finding the Avatar, or whenever his homesickness ached so much it almost felt like a physical pain, Iroh was there with a soft smile and a steaming cup of tea.

"I hope so too," he says.

Iroh looks at him in surprise. "I didn't know that you cared for tea, Prince Zuko."

Zuko shrugs, pulling his shoulders in defensively a bit. "I don't _dislike_ it," he replies. He would drink tea with Iroh back at the palace, but since he was banished, he's complained about it almost every single time. He has more important things to do than drink _tea_ with his _uncle_.

But he's never come so close to losing Iroh as he did before the rainstorm, and at this point, after drifting for over a week on this raft, he thinks he'd like to have tea with his uncle again.

Iroh smiles. "When we get to the colony, I will find the best tea they have, and we will drink together," he says. "I can find a ginseng. Or a lychee, since we'll be in an Earth Kingdom colony. Or perhaps I can find a good spiced tea…"

Zuko zones out his uncle's ramblings about tea, as he often does, and looks out at the land on the horizon. It's getting closer and closer every second, slowly but steadily, and even though Zuko knows they won't be able to stay there, it's still nice to see land. They've been at sea for so long, not seeing anything but endless water around them, and seeing the land on the horizon… Zuko knows they're going to make it. He knows they'll get to the colonies, just like Iroh said they would.

"I wonder if we could find a white dragon tea," Iroh muses. "Would you like that, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko doesn't take his eyes away from the slowly approaching land. He doesn't smile, but his face relaxes a bit, grows a bit more content. "Yes, Uncle, I would."


End file.
